The Midnight Oil
by Tv Centric Universe
Summary: "This was it, the final tedious wind. The air was heavy with danger and he could feel millions of tiny alarms screaming in unison. The towers and doorways were crumbling, the walls collapsing. This was the end, he swallowed dryly. He forced himself to retreat." Based on Madden Night. In-progress.
1. Chapter 1

Today was Thursday- Madden night.

The pizza had been eaten and the remaining cardboard lay deserted on the counter behind them. The game was going well and even though Javier was losing, he wasn't at all bitter. Ryan was beside him and that was all that mattered.

They were at Kevin's apartment, sitting on the disgusting red monstrosity. Jenny was away at a work function. Ryan had tried to explain in greater detail, but his partner had tuned him out. She wasn't there, he didn't care why. Thursday was their night and ever since the engagement, the game nights had become few and far-between.

He had only had three beers, and already he was feeling buzzed- although that may just have been due to their close proximity. He could feel the warmth of his partners shoulder and a faint blush graced his strong features. In all the excitement, Ryan was practically sitting on top of him an even through two layers of denim, he could feel the strong muscle beneath.

The couch could comfortably hold three but whenever they sat down they seemed to gravitate toward the centre, as if on instinct. He knew why he did it, but he wasn't sure about Ryan.

They had always been close. Within a month of becoming partners they were already starting Madden night, something he had never even thought to bring up with Thorton. After a rough case, they'd go out for drinks. And like all good friends, they may or may not have ended up sleeping in one bed.

Ryan would blow it off quickly, blaming the alcohol and general fatigue. Esposito would smile and nob, adding an extra 'bro' just to cover his tracks. He hoped the Irishman wouldn't notice the thinly-veiled hurt.

People say they were like brothers, but Javier would disagree. They were best friends, like Castle and Beckett. Where they may have had drinks, Ryan and Esposito had dinner, drinks and entertainment- all of which equaled one hell of a date.

Once and a while someone would call them a couple and they quickly denied it. Over the years, hearing the denial had stung more and more.

He didn't know when it started; all he knew was that for the past few months he had been nursing a healthy crush on his partner. Looking back on it, it was probably the Racine case. He should have cared more about Thorton, but when death was starring him in the face, he could only think of Ryan.

His eyes, so deep you could drown, and the skip in his step which seemed a permanent fixture in the precinct. The smiles and their abundance of handshakes, the spicy scent of aftershave and the freshness of laundry detergent.

They understood each other on a level he had never reached with anybody, not even Lanie. The only reason they had broken up was the uncertainty of their future, but with Kevin they had everything planned. He talked about his future more than with any of his previous girlfriends.

Hypothetical situations were topped with suggestions until a full picture began to form. They had even planned their children's names and who the godparents would be. His partner had laughed it off jokingly, and Javier hoped that his passion hadn't shone through too strongly.

Eyes back to the screen, a genuine laugh escaped him as Kevin's pixilated avatar missed the touchdown and was tackled by Javier's five star player. The smaller man returned the smile, more mockingly than hurt. Blue eyes glared at him threateningly, yet he managed to make it adorable.

The laughter died down as the game got more intense. After scoring three more point against Javier and two for, they were neck and neck. Ryan rose to go and grab a couple of beers, nearly running the short three foot distance. His warmth was instantly missed, and the seated man stroked the spot absentmindedly.

When he returned, he placed the two freezing beverages on the worn table and sat down a little further than before. Now Javier's right side was mirroring Ryan's left, their bodies never breaking contact. Ryan reached forward as to grab the heavy controller, but Javier stopped him, capturing a warm wrist with bottle cooled fingers.

The brown eyed man swallowed thickly, reacting to his partners rapidly tensing form. Kevin turned his head slowly, his other wrist falling loosely to his side. Javier's glare flickered from his partner's confused features to his lips, parted as if ready for protest.

It was the last thing he saw before kissing his partner.

Ryan's lips were soft and warm beneath his, and although they remained still, Javier continued with renewed vigor. His mind reeled nervously as panic seeped in through every pore- this was usually where people began to kiss back. Why wasn't he kissing back?

Scared, he pulled away, licking his chapped lips and studying the stunned face of the younger man. Blue eyes, wide with confusion, dominated his unusually pale face. He stuttered and mumbled incoherently, as if trying to make sense of the situation. Nothing was said.

All that mattered was that Javier had been rejected. Kevin's' mouth remained sealed and deep down he knew it always would be. As if possible the Irishman tensed up even more, shrinking in on himself and staring at the dark floorboards.

His grip on Ryan's wrist fell slack and, glad to be freed, Ryan stood up and situated himself a good ten feet away, as if Esposito was wielding a smoking gun. The eyes that once held joy were now filled with something worse than hate; rejection.

Rejection of Javier and their partnership, rejection of everything they had held dear previous to tonight. All those years of partnership became meaningless, just because of one solid look. Kevin looked that unsteady balance between anger and discomfort, like he didn't know whether to speak or to break something.

This was worse than any bullet wound.

Those once warm eyes were cold and hard, much like stone which lodged itself in the Latino's heart. His feet shuffled loudly through the silent apartment as he showed himself out solemnly. He knew he was no longer wanted.

The car ride home was uninteresting. In his head, the scenario kept playing, back and forth like a cheap cassette. What if he kissed back? What if he never speaks to me again? The only problem was there were no more what-ifs. What had happened was in the past and he couldn't fix it. They had a good dynamic going and here he was screwing it all up.

It was obvious to Javier at least where he had gone wrong. He was looking, searching for something that wasn't there- hints that maybe just maybe they were something more. His partner's sexuality had always been a bit of a mystery. He had a fiancée, but sometimes Esposito would catch him checking out the new guy. His blue eye would dart away quickly, but only after shooting his Latino partner a knowing look.

He tried to shake of the feeling, the nausea he felt in his gut, but he couldn't. The last thing he saw was the disgust on Ryan's face, the face he had come to love. The image was burnt into his eyelids, and he would never forget it. All the years of friendship slipped down the drain.

The light turned red and he placed his head onto the steering wheel, secretly wishing he was home so he could punch a hole into his wall. He closed his eyes hoping for relief, but got none. The image of Ryan's stone cold expression hit him like a wall. Just like his uneasiness, he couldn't escape it.

The light turned green and he drove onward, oblivious to the car speeding to his left. He only felt the pain, the pressure of his door being smashed in and the force of the crash knocking him unconscious. A sheet of glass shattered into tiny spheres and rained down upon Javier's semi-lucid form.

He felt his conciseness fall away and his eyes shut as if on their own accord. He tried to will them back open, but they were too heavy. The last thing he saw before slipping out of conciseness was Kevin's angry features, making him feel that much worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Tonight was Madden night.

The two pizzas that Ryan had purchased had been eaten and the remaining cardboard lay abandoned in the kitchen. He and Esposito were sitting on the couch, the one Javier hated, like they did every other Thursday. The beer had left him feeling buzzed and he could feel the heat from his partners' body meeting his own; he had never noticed it before.

When he told Javier that Jenny was away at a work function, he was lying. They weren't a couple or anything, but the one Madden night Jenny had sat in on was, for lack of a better word, terrible. She was a third wheel, a third wheel who talked. Needless to say, he was happy to have the apartment to himself.

He loved Jenny, he really did, but sometimes she just got to be too much. Everyday she would talk almost animatedly about her day and how every client was worse than their predecessor. He stopped listening about two minutes in and it was all okay, until she noticed.

The fights began about two weeks ago and tension followed them around the empty corridors. Let's just say that he and the couch got a lot better acquainted. Much to his dismay, it wasn't just about his lack of listening skills. She also wanted him to throw out his couch, apparently it was unsanitary, and get rid of the X-box. He had said no.

People always thought they were the perfect couple and that he was whipped, and he wasn't denying the second part. Behind the façade their relationship was strained. She didn't understand him. She didn't care. Not about he felt or how his day went. After a bad case he would have beers with Esposito and come home to an empty house, not even a note.

Hell, he had a better relationship with Javier than with any girl he ever dated, and sometimes that thought crossed his mind a little too often. It never festered for long though. He wasn't gay; he was a hundred percent straight, at least until he met Javier.

In the beginning, he didn't even recognize the feelings- the weird butterfly's in his stomach when his partner bought him coffee or the fact he actually cleaned the house when the older man visited.

Recently, however, they had become more and more apparent. Before the locker rooms were just places to change, but now he dreaded them. There was too much exposed skin and a sweaty Esposito was, well, hot. He had found himself staring once or twice; his eyes lingering on the muscled planes before flitting away. He hoped that nobody noticed.

But Madden nights were different. It was their thing, a sacred ritual of booze, food and television.

A laugh escaped the Irishman as his player was tackled. He didn't care, he could still win. With a content sigh, he rose to retrieve more beer, running the three feet to the fridge. The heavy door creaked open and cool air washed over him. He was happy for the distraction.

He pulled out the cold bottles, thankful for the extra alcohol. Returning to the red sofa, he sat down heavily beside his partner, the heat radiating off his body more evident that before.

Kevin reached out for the controller, and expected Javier to do the same. Instead, he was met by a cool hand wrapping itself around his wrist. He swallowed deeply and held his heavy breath; eyes wide open as instinct took over. His muscles froze and his pulse jumped wildly against the tan fingers.

Slowly, he turned to face Javier, scared for what he may see. The dark eyes were focused, too focused. They seemed hesitant and almost predatory, like a lion tracking its prey. The butterfly's returned and Ryan felt his mouth go dry. The guessing game was over.

He could only watch as his partner drew closer, eyes never straying from the blue orbs in front of him. Before the Irishman had a chance to calm himself down, Esposito kissed him. His lips were soft and warm against the smaller man's, but they were not welcomed.

Ryan's mouth remained shut, his heart fighting the action and failing miserably. Fear made him unresponsive, but inside he was everything but calm. His mind was on fire, cycling through footage like an old filmmaker. Flashes of genius and mediocre slides flew across his consciousness until everything became a blur. Good and bad lost their clear division. He was lost.

He wanted to respond, but the logical part of his mind kept his lips sealed. It was right in a way, this was a terrible idea. The kiss- one could almost take it as a confession of love, or at least lust- was completely new to him. Their relationship, which had been carefully constructed, had been crumbling for a while now. The once stone walls were now paper thin and tedious winds threatened the delicate arches and threadbare walls.

This new pattern was more beautiful though, and thin streams of sunlight stuttered through the winding architecture. If he was honest, he quite liked the transparency, but it scared him none the less. The thicker the walls, the stronger they were, the less that could break them.

He couldn't do this, but it was happening none the less. They had never had sexual tension, at least not by Beckett standards. Their close proximity, it should have been weird, but instead it felt almost natural. They had so many handshakes, and not to forget those silent conversations. He always thought it was just a great partnership, that they just gelled, but then again so did Castle and Beckett.

It was wrong and he knew it. They were partners and most importantly, both guys. Never since their meeting did he ever question Esposito's sexuality. The passing glances he threw at women told him all that he needed to know, his partner was completely and utterly straight. Or at least he had been.

His body continued to panic but he was finally able to think again. The thick cloud which fogged his brain began to clear and new light drove his thoughts. Once again his heart began to protest, but logic was victorious. Violently, he pulled away, instantly missing the warmth.

This was it, the final tedious wind. The air was heavy with danger and he could feel millions of tiny alarms screaming in unison. The towers and doorways were crumbling, the walls collapsing. This was the end, he swallowed dryly. He forced himself to retreat.

Their partnership was jeopardized and it was better to leave it at that than destroy it.

His wide eyes refocused on the scene in front of him. The look on Javier's face was heart breaking, and Ryan resisted the urge to hold him close and kiss him again. His brown eyes were swimming with emotions- sadness, shame and most of all confusion.

Kevin had rejected emotion for logic and it seemed like an unequal trade.

Javier left in a rush; eyes down, hands askew and face defeated. A sad sigh echoed around the empty apartment as the door slammed shut, air thick with angered regret. The spot where Javier had sat was now empty and faded stains shone from beneath the remaining warmth. The two controllers lay abandon on the worn coffee table where drink shaped rings would eventually become a permanent reminder.

Silence filled the apartment and all was dark but the light of the moon and the florescent glow of the screen. For the first time in his life, he was glad for the loneliness. It was better than being with Jenny.

Kevin found comfort in the worn cushions. He could still feel the heat from when the incident had taken place. He wanted to hit something, and he wanted to cry, but he settled on doing neither. He cleaned up the pizza box and groggily finished off the two beers.

He slept on the couch that night, too. The familiar action felt like any other night, and how he wished it was. Maybe, the thought optimistically, it was just a dream. But, the tingling of his lips told him differently.

His eyes finally surrendered to the fatigue. The last thing he saw was the face of his partner, and the remains of his castle turned into dust.


	3. Chapter 3

He was in bed when the hospital phoned and despite the shrill ring Jenny hasn't so much as stirred. When he heard the news Javier was in hospital, he had gotten up and pulled on whatever he could find, clean or not, he didn't care.

The car ride over was a blur. Red lights turned green, horns barked out sharp yelps, and the engine purred peacefully. Smoke burned his lungs, and the overpowering smell of gasoline in the parking garage overpowered his senses. He barely even realized he was on the right floor when the elevator doors squeaked open.

He couldn't help but blame himself. If his heart hadn't been so stupid, and his brain so logical, this would never have happened. Javier would have been with him, probably in the middle of alcohol induced sex, but with him, not in some hospital room.

A nurse at the front desk told Kevin where his partner was staying and he hesitantly began the journey to the door. The corridor was silent and the only sound that could be heard was his heavy footprints on the vinyl flooring and the deep thud of his heart beating against his rib cage.

Reaching the door, he leant against the wall, mind struggling to unscramble his thoughts. Guilt, so much guilt. He didn't want to go in but it was as if some force of nature was pulling him there. Mentally he wasn't prepared. He wasn't prepared for the overwhelming emotions that would sweep over him, or the emotional turmoil it would resurrect. He just couldn't do it, but some force deep within him was pulling him there.

There was a part of him that knew he would be okay. It was like a sixth sense he had. Javier had laughed when Kevin had brought it up one night in the Old Haunt and he remembered laughing to. Those were the good times, when neither of the two partners had feelings towards each other.

When every handshake was just a handshake and not an excuse for any type of physical contact. When those inches too close were because there was no other way, not because they enjoyed the heat of the other radiating onto equally heated skin. When those nights of drinking had no reasons why and didn't end up with too many close calls. When they were just bro's. When everything was simple, before Jenny, Lanie and the realization of the blasted sexual tension.

Gathering his thought and gathering a deep breath, he pushed open the door. The smell of sickness and hand sanitizer washed over him and with it a new wave of guilt. Hooked up to the machines was Javier, his Javier. He was too pale, much too similar to Ryan than the Latinos normal complexion. Hooked up to him were tubes and an oxygen tank was somewhere nearby. The only sounds available were his partner's slow breathing and the calming rhythm of the heart monitor. Relief washed over him. The only major injury he could see was a bandage on his upper cheek, stark white against Esposito's tanned skin. He may have injured his partner, but he didn't kill him.

He walked over to one of those uncomfortable, plastic chairs and pulled it over to Esposito's bed. The bottom of the chair scraped lightly against the worn out floor, not enough to disturb Javier but enough to get on Kevin's nerves. He sat down, moving the chair half an inch closer successfully wedging him between the bed and the hard plastic.

For the first time that night he allowed himself to relax. All the stress from the incident seemed to melt away. Without hesitation he grabbed his partner's hand, gently running his thumb over the smooth skin. He rested his head on his other hand, just beside Javier's. The heat radiating off of his partner felt comforting and for the first time in a while he allowed himself to sleep.

He would wake up tomorrow and he would be home, and at work he and Javier would return to being friends. Yeah, this was just a really bad dream. He tried desperately to convince himself of that but deep down he knew it wasn't true. What he had done, or hadn't done, would never be forgotten, or forgiven. He couldn't forget this and he sure as hell couldn't forget the guilt.

His mind returned to what the nurse had told him. He was hit by a vehicle coming in from the left. He could almost visualize his partner's reaction. No matter how much he tried to forget, he couldn't. Esposito shouldn't have been so distracted but he was, and Ryan knew it was all his fault. If he had just kissed back, forgot about stupid logic and kissed his partner back, than Esposito would be okay. He wouldn't have left the house, and he sure as hell wouldn't have been so out of it.

The problem was he couldn't take it back not now not ever, but hopefully in time he would be able to make it up to him.


End file.
